After Everything
by Darkfire25
Summary: Starts after 4x16 "A". Carl was raped by the Claimers. This follows a similar plot as the show, but with the effects everything would have on Carl. It bothers me that the show would introduce this violence and then toss it away like it never happened. Some plot points are altered. Rated M for rape, blood. Hurt!Carl Protective!Michonne Guilty!Daryl Fatherly!Rick. (RickXMichonne)
1. Chapter 1

He knew he was okay here; that the whole ordeal was over and done with. Carl was back in the abandoned blue truck that Rick, Michonne and he found on the side of the road. However, this time Michonne was with him, watching over him. Her presence was keeping his wavering sanity in place. Her slim fingers combed through his hair. Carl also knew that outside of the car, his father and Daryl were keeping watch. He had heard them both pacing and moving around. It was morning now. He knew that, could see that through the open spaces of the windows that weren't covered in clothing. Daryl had placed the clothes across the windows to keep the light away in hopes that a darker resting place would help Carl sleep. The younger Grimes appreciated that, but having a comfortable place to sleep doesn't mean Carl would be getting any rest any time soon.

Daryl and his father had moved the dead bodies away from their campsite after Carl had calmed down. Carl's mind wasn't too positive on what exactly happened right after, but he remembered bits and pieces. Fear. Pain. It had _hurt_. His father was drenched in blood and Michonne held him tightly as he watched Rick viciously stab his attacker to death. His innocence was taken away, and Carl felt sickened at the deep pleasure he felt as his father brutally murdered his attacker. He watched in silent approval as Michonne held him. He was startled as the dark thoughts filtered through his mind. The thought that _he_ wanted to be the one to kill. He didn't want to think anymore.

Morning came too quick, but Carl supposes that it was already morning when he and Michonne climbed into the car, when he laid there numb and then fell asleep. Perhaps it wasn't even morning anymore, but rather a good point in the day to start moving. Michonne had brushed his hair away from his eyes and whispered softly.

"Carl, it's time to go." He didn't want to get up. He was awake, yeah, but physically moving was a thing he would never be ready for. Even lying on Michonne's lap, he felt the deep ache inside himself. The pain flared when he shifted even the smallest margin. His jeans stuck to his thighs, glued to them with blood and other bodily fluids. For a moment, he felt terrible. How dare he lie on Michonne's lap, covered in filth? He was dirty. His heart began to hammer again in his chest.

 _He_ was dirty.

Sucking in a deep breath, Carl slowly maneuvered his way off of Michonne's lap and out of the car. Small grunts of pain escaped from his throat, but he refused to acknowledge it. A hand caught his arm as Carl's feet landed on the ground and his knees gave way. It was a small stumble, but, looking up, Carl saw Michonne and Daryl eye him worriedly. His legs solidified and took his weight, and he pushed past the concerned looks to go grab his backpack.

"Everyone ready?" Rick asked the three, coming from around the trees. His face was still bloody, but it seemed he had washed most of it off.

"Yeah." Daryl said as Michonne nodded. Carl knew she was eyeing him as he stayed quiet. Rick also noticed his silence because he walked up to Carl and put a hand on his shoulder. Carl tried not to flinch at the contact but failed. However, he didn't fail to see how that small jerk of his body caused Michonne's eyes to widen, caused Daryl to look down at his feet, or how his father drew his hand away like Carl's body had burned it.

"Carl, are you okay to hit the road. We don't have much farther, and we can always stop if you-"

"-I'm fine. Let's go." Carl interrupted. His pulled his backpack up, adjusting it so his body wouldn't ache so much. It didn't help, but his father took that as an okay to get moving. Carl stayed behind the group as they walked. He knew the back of his jeans were covered in evidence of last night. His limped slightly as walked, but the pain helped him keep going. Feeling pain meant you're alive. He would take that any day. Rick and Michonne walked ahead, quietly exchanging a few words. Daryl walked in front of him, sometimes alongside of him. The redneck cast glances his way every few minutes, but made no move to initiate a conversation. That was fine with him.

He kept his eyes on his feet, trying to ensure that he would not fall and have to face more pain than necessary. He rubbed at his eyes and sighed. His vision was blurry, he was exhausted. They had been following the railroad for hours now. As they neared their destination, the group got more and more quiet. Nervous, maybe. Rick walked over to a piece of wood on the side of the rails. Swiping his foot to clear it, the name Terminus showed in black.

"We're getting close. Be there before sundown." Daryl said as he walked up to Rick and Michonne. Carl remained silent. He was currently battling his rapidly blurring vision and the pain that pulsed through his body. Michonne looked down the track, as if she could see Terminus move closer with the force of her will. Rick nodded.

"Now we head through the woods. We don't know who they are." Rick sounded tired. Carl took a breath. The woods would be better for them but harder to carelessly walk through. He couldn't drag his feet or let his guard down. His shook his head to clear it.

"All right." Daryl replied walking forward. Carl followed closely behind. They walked for a bit. Michonne had eventually fallen in step with Carl.

"How you holding up?" She asked. Carl almost didn't notice her quiet voice amidst the crunching of leaves and twigs. He glanced up, surprised, sweat gathered on his forehead.

"What?" He asked, almost tripping over a tree root. His mouth felt dry. Michonne took a moment to fully scan him. He could _feel_ her eyes raking over his body, trying to assess his state of being.

"Rick!" She called. Rick and Daryl, who were a bit ahead, stopped. Rick had whipped his knife out, ready to strike. Daryl had his trusted crossbow ready to fire.

"We're taking a rest." Michonne then said, and Rick's eyes instantly went to Carl. Carl didn't notice though, he was wavering on unsteady feet. His vision finally decided, fuck this I'm out, and he felt hands grab him. It was a weird sensation. He felt these hands on his body as if he weren't in his own body. Yelling reached his ears and entered his mind.

"Carl? Can you hear me?" Yes. Yeah, he can hear you. His stomach lurched suddenly as the sensation of spinning washed over him.

"Carl, nod your head if you can hear me." Another voice asked. He tried to find the voice in the dark, nodding his head.

"Rick, he's been bleeding." A third voice chimed in, his southern drawl familiar. Without warning, hands were fumbling with his clothes. Hands fumbling with his clothes, holding him down, what was going on? Pain, he remembers. He remembers pain like he had never felt before. Carl can't tell if that pain is happening right now or if it is simply a memory, but the chill kiss of the air on his skin is very real. He screams.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello. I'm Shay. I just got into The Walking Dead a few weeks ago. I saw the episode "A" and was shocked to see that they had introduced the idea of Carl being sexually assaulted. However, it is almost never mentioned again. I feel like that is a giant waste of character development for Carl, so I took it upon me to write it out. Only, in my version, Carl _was_ raped. This follows the basic plot of the show, but with some minor and major alterations. This chapter is very close to actual show. I mean like, SUPER close. Anyway, enjoy.**

 **Read and Review, please.**

Michonne didn't know how exactly everything turned to shit. After finally getting Carl to go and sleep, Rick and Michonne sat by the fire. They were talking about food and Terminus, and then twigs snapping caused them to whip around, searching for a threat. They didn't see anything, so the two settled down again. Not even a moment later, there was a gun to Rick's head. Michonne whipped around to grab her katana, but another man had kicked it away, gun leveled to her head as well.

"Oh, dearie me. You screwed up, asshole." The man with his gun to Rick's head snarled. More men revealed themselves as they walked out from the woods. Michonne's heart dropped. They were outnumbered. She spared a small glance at the truck, where Carl was sleeping. She prayed they wouldn't notice him.

"Ya hear me? You screwed up." The white haired man said, pushing the muzzle of the gun to Rick's temple. Rick was frozen, obviously trying to think of a way out of this mess. Michonne saw out of the corner of her eye, a large man saunter up to the truck.

"Today is the day of reckoning, sir. Restitution. A balancing of the whole damn universe." Rick glanced over at Michonne, eyes worried. Michonne studied the man, trying to get a read on him. A weakness. A dull thump sounded and Michonne saw a disgusting man grinning into the truck, grinning at Carl. He placed both his hands onto the window, a knife in his meaty fist.

"Shit, and I was thinking of turning in for the night on New Year's Eve." He laughed, glancing at the members of his group. Michonne took another look at their situation. A total of five of them. They had 4 guns pointed at them, and one was staring down Carl.

"Now who's gonna count down the ball dropper with me, huh?" The white haired man asked. A moment later, he started counting down. Michonne's heart beat faster with every mississippi that was spoken. She watched at the man by the truck waved at Carl through the window.

"Joe!" A voice called. A voice that Michonne _knew_. Daryl. Daryl walked into the camp, holding his crossbow and a black garbage bag. He saw Rick and then turned his eyes to Michonne. She could see his face fall. He slowed to a stop, confusion and understanding on his face.

"Hold up." He said, walking closer.

"You're stopping me on 8, Daryl." Joe complained, warningly.

"Just hold up."

"This is the guy who killed Lou, so we got nothing to talk about." A man spoke.

"The thing about nowadays is we got nothing but time. Say your piece, Daryl." Joe spoke. Michonne watched the man at the truck, looking past the gun leveled at her. She took a peek at Daryl's face, the sadness and fear clear.

"These people, you're gonna let 'em go. These are good people." Daryl tried to reason. His head shook in disbelief of the situation.

"Now, I think Lou would disagree with you on that. I'll, of course, have to speak for him and all 'cause your friend here strangled him in a bathroom." Joe went on to tell Daryl. Michonne looked from Joe to Daryl, breathing heavy in panic. Daryl looked a bit broken, but straightened out.

"You want blood, I get it," Daryl said softly. He dropped his crossbow and bag to the ground, spreading his arms wide. "Take it from me, man. Come on." Joe gave Daryl a look of disbelief and confusion.

"This man _killed_ our friend. You say he's good people. See, now that right there is, is, is a lie. _It's a lie!_ " Joe snarled. Daryl's face broke, and then suddenly he was being beaten. A shout escaped his lips as the butt of a gun was smashed into his side, he was dragged away.

"No!" Rick yelled as Joe yelled.

"Teach him fellas, teach him all the way." Daryl was pushed up against the truck, fist flying at him. Suddenly the grisly man yanked open the door of the truck. Michonne watched in terror as he yanked Carl out of the truck.

"Come here, boy."

"No!" Carl yelled, struggling against the bigger man. He whimpered as a knife was pressed to his throat. The man's other hand slammed the door shut before gripping the back of Carl's neck. Carl gagged for a moment, breath stopping for a beat before picking back up. The large man grinned.

"You leave him be!" Rick demanded, trying to rise to his feet. Joe grabbed his shoulders and forced him back down.

"Shhh" The man whispered into Carl's ear. Michonne swallowed back vomit. Carl cried out as the man held him. She saw his tongue drag against Carl's cheek to his neck. She frantically tried to get up, find her katana, save Carl. She was met with a gun in her face.

"You'll get yours. Just wait your turn." The man said. She heard Rick try to reason with Joe. His voice rising in volume amidst the grunts of Daryl's beating. Daryl dropped to the ground, an oof sounding out from his lips. Pained and breathy. She broke her stare at her captor to see Carl pushed to the ground. She saw him desperately try to get away, but, within seconds of being pushed down, the man was on top of him. Carl twisted and turned, bucked his hips, and flailed his arms. The man had gotten a hold on both of Carl's arms, trying to force them above his head. He laughed.

"Stop your squirming." He ordered. His hands wrapped around Carl's neck, stopping Carl's movements for a moment. His body bucked frantically then, and Michonne saw Carl reach. She saw him try. Carl whimpered as the man laughed at him. Suddenly, she was distracted by a gunshot. Joe stumbled away from Rick, holding his nose. The two started fighting. Michonne used the distraction to try and push the gun aimed at her away, but she was slapped down in the process. The gunman recovering quickly and aiming at her once more. She was frantic. Looking over at Carl, she saw that the man had flipped him onto his stomach. Smashing his face onto the ground, the dirty man reached for his belt buckle, undoing it eagerly. Carl yelled in pain as the man over him laughed. He reached down and bit Carl's ear. She saw his eyes become wide in shock and Carl screamed, frantically trying to get the man off, his breathing erratic. The man pulled at his pants, reaching around and under to fumble with the belt, laughing. Michonne tried to crawl forward, but the gunman kicked her back.

"I said to wait for your goddamn turn, bitch." He warned. She threw him a glare.

"Don't, please!" Carl suddenly spoke. Tears fell from his eyes and he tried to crawl out from under his attacker. Michonne saw that his belt had been undone, and the man was trying to pull his jeans down.

"Dan, keep him quiet!" A man shouted, who was currently kicking Daryl in the back. Daryl grunted in pain, unable to move on the ground. Dan grinned, finally succeeding in pulling Carl's jeans down. Carl gasped, breath sucking in, while a choked noise leaked through his throat. Michonne gave a sob as she tried to get around her captor. Rick was being beaten by Joe, Daryl by the two other members of the group, and she was just sitting here. The man struck her with the butt of the gun. Her vision swirled for a moment before the sound reached her ears. _Oh, god._ Carl was screaming. Dan was over him, thrusting into him. He wrapped a hand over Carl's mouth to mute the sound. Michonne heard Rick let out a sob, pleading with the man as Joe continuously punched him in the face. Dan's grunts grew louder, and the sound of skin slapping joined the noises of the beating in the night. Carl had stopped screaming. His eyes wide open as tears poured down his cheeks. Small groans and grunts escaped his mouth as Dan pounded into him.

"Please." Carl groaned. Dan's mouth had come to rest on Carl's neck. Dan's pace picked up and Michonne knew when the disgusting man came. He gave a breathy shout as Carl moaned, eyes closing. Michonne almost let out a breath of relief, thinking it was over, but Dan kept going. He stopped his thrusts, but his mouth travelled around Carl's neck. One of his hands reached under the boy's shirt, exploring, before dipping down. Carl sobbed, but he didn't move. Michonne could hear his exhaustion. Dan had used him several times. Rick was barely conscious, and Daryl was almost out too. Michonne hadn't felt this desperate, this dead inside since Andre. She didn't know what to do.


	3. Chapter 3

The noise and smell of blood had attracted nearby walkers. Michonne watched in horror as a walker trudged its way into camp. She tried to call attention to it, but her captor ignored her. The walker took a bite into one of the men beating Daryl. Off balance from kicking Daryl, the man fell screaming, effectively falling victim to the walker's hunger. A second walker stumbled in and began tearing at the man's stomach, pulling intestines and flesh from his body. The distraction was what they needed. Rick ended up biting Joe's neck, ripping flesh and arteries, killing him almost instantly. Walkers instantly began biting away on Joe's fallen body. This had distracted Michonne's captor, which she then turned his own gun to shoot him in the head. She ripped the gun out of his dead hand to shoot the walkers around the camp. Rick killed the walkers clawing at Joe with a knife, efficiently jamming the knife through the skull before pulling it and moving on. Daryl had broke free and kicked the skull of his second attacker in. She saw him fall again, but ignored him for now.

She turned, and saw that Dan was holding Carl up in front of his body, knife to his throat. Carl's head laid on Dan's shoulder, revealing his pale neck easier. Red spots, hickies, littered across the pale expanse of skin. She saw that his legs wouldn't hold him, that the only reason he was upright was Dan.

"Stay, stay back. I'll kill him!" Dan threatened, his face was full of fear. His eyes were wide as they scanned back and forth through the clearing. No doubt he was trying to assess the danger he was now in.

"Let the boy go!" She told him, her voice close to breaking. She held the gun level with his head. Suddenly, Carl leaned forward and dropped. Dan struggled to hold him, but then he screamed. A walker had taken a bite out of his shoulder: the shoulder that Carl had been resting on. Michonne shot the walker and ran to Carl. She cradled him as she tried to put distance between Dan and them. Dan yowled in pain, blood rushing down from the bite. She ignored him. Let him suffer, she thought bitterly. Brushing away leaves from Carl's face, she wrapped her arms around him.

"Carl, baby, it's okay now. It's over." She said. He looked at her, blue eyes glazed over, before turning his gaze to his father. Rick was stabbing Dan. Killing him. Making him suffer. Daryl knelt down beside Carl, his face holding in pain.

"Hey, Carl. Wanna pull your jeans up?" He asked softly, trying to pull the boy's attention away from his father's violence. Michonne turned to look at Daryl. His lip was bleeding. Hell, he was bleeding everywhere. His eye already looked swollen.

"D-Daryl?" Carl whimpered, his breath uneven. His eyes closed for a moment too long, and Michonne's heart hammered in her chest.

"Yeah, buddy. Let's pull those jeans up. I bet you're cold, right?" Daryl rambled, looking at Michonne. She nodded, grabbing a side of Carl's jeans. Suddenly, Carl went ridged. His eyes widened, his breathing picked up.

"Don't. Please." He whispered, breaths becoming faster.

"Carl, you're okay." Michonne told him, a tear sliding down her dark cheek. She wasn't ready for when he started to flail. His arms whacking her face. He twisted and turned and cried out. Daryl had held him down, crying.

"I'm so sorry, Carl. I didn't know. I I didn't-" Daryl held Carl's arms down in an attempt to stop the boy from further injury. Michonne's tears trailed down her face as she hugged him. It took a while but yet not long at all until Carl's struggles slowed to a stop. His spent body going limp as his mind retreated away from the waking world. She held him and assisted Daryl in making sure Carl's clothes were in place. The two didn't say anything until Rick joined them. Covered in blood, he kneeled by Carl's side, sobbing softly. Michonne reached a hand out to Rick, catching his cheek.

"Hey, it's over." She said quietly. He looked at her, his ice blue eyes cracked and broken.

"Dad?" Carl whimpered. Michonne looked down to see Carl's confused face. His eyes followed the path of blood trailing down Rick's face. Rick looked anguished for a moment.

"It's okay, Carl." He spoke, voice low and gravelly. Carl huffed, much like he always does when he is treated like a child. The familiar gesture made Michonne crack a small smile.

"Everyone keeps saying that. Are _you_ okay?" He asked. Rick looked down at himself, seemingly surprised to find so much blood staining his person. He nods his head.

"'M fine, Carl. Why don't you and Michonne go back to the truck and sleep a little?" Rick suggested, looking up at Michonne for her input. She nodded, looking over at Daryl. The three unspokenly worked to make Carl comfortable. Daryl wet a piece of cloth and wiped away dirt smeared on Carl's face. Rick made sure the truck's door was open and put down a blanket on the seat to cushion it further. He found Carl's hat on the floor, and made sure to put it on the front seat. The three adults lifted Carl together, hoping to lessen his pain. Michonne took note on how they moved him and what noises of pain fell from his mouth. She wanted to make sure he was as comfortable as possible. With Rick and Daryl supporting Carl, she climbed into the truck, seating herself in the farthest seat. Rick and Daryl worked to settle Carl onto her lap.

"We should let him sleep for a few hours, but then we need to go." Daryl explained in a hushed tone. He eyed Carl's sleeping form. Resting on Michonne's lap, Daryl could clearly see how much the boy was shaking. Michonne could _feel_ it. Rick nodded absentmindedly.

"Yeah, yeah, we'll let him sleep," He said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He took a survey of their campsite. The bodies of the group and walkers littered around would surely bring more unwanted guests. "We need to move the bodies away, try to clean up, maybe search them for supplies."

"Yeah, that sounds good." Michonne agreed, making sure Carl was settled comfortably. She sighed, combing fingers through his hair, picking out leaves and twigs. She noticed Daryl linger for a moment, guilt evident on his face.

"Go," Michonne told him softly, nodding her head towards the older Grimes. "Help Rick."

Daryl nodded, casting one more glance at Carl before shutting the truck's door softly. She knew that Daryl recognised that she was asking for him to help Rick cope. _Talk to him_ , she meant in a loud but unspoken way. Michonne watched the two men work. Rick dragged away the walkers, making sure that they were indeed dead this time, while Daryl took care of the group of men. They dragged the bodies in separate directions of each other. Daryl soon returned, holding clothes in his arms. He set them down in the hood of the truck.

"For the light. So he can sleep better, ya know?" He explained as he folded the laundry over the windows. She felt Carl shift in her lap, looking down, she noticed he seemed more relaxed. He brought his hands closer to his face, curling in on himself. A small moan of discomfort left his lips as he shifted the lower half of his body. Daryl finished placing the clothing in the windows, handing her some water as he left. Michonne smiled her thanks, thoughts wandering to how everything went to shit.


End file.
